


I Want to Touch You Like a Cleansing Rain.

by ChelleLeigh1917



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleLeigh1917/pseuds/ChelleLeigh1917
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U fic. Richard wins Bosworth, Anne is alive, however their marriage is still troubled due to the death of their son, and the cards he played to defeat Tudor. Richard takes actions to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want to Touch You Like a Cleansing Rain.

Richard did not often think he was a fool, but lately that seemed to be his only thought. He was a fool, a damnable fool. Oh, there probably were not many who would say that, because he had the crown. He'd won Bosworth, Henry Tudor was dead, Jasper Tudor was dead, Lord Stanley and his traitorous brother were both dead, and Margaret Stanley was locked away in a convent. No, most people would say he had won a decisive victory, and on the battlefield that was true. 

The problem was his marriage, he and Anne were distant, had been distant since their boy had died. And he knew his actions with Elizabeth had not done anything to solve the distance between them. He knew she still grieved for their Edward, so did he, knew she was angry over what he'd done, or rather what she believed he'd done with Elizabeth. No matter what the gossip said, he'd never bedded his niece, had never thought to bed her. No, he'd only wanted to remove the Rivers and York affinity from Tudor, and he'd been successful. He had regrets, of course, he regretted greatly that Elizabeth had actually seemed to have fallen in love with him. He'd never intended for that to happen. There had only been one woman for him, he'd known that since he was seventeen years old, his Anne. 

He started to watch Anne closely, she seemed to have recovered from her earlier illness, and for that he was thankful, so thankful. Her appetite seemed to have returned, and she was gaining a little weight back. He noticed she seemed to spend a lot of time with Margaret and Teddy. For him though, she seemed to have scarely a word. He missed talking to her, missed how they used to talk about everything. 

The afternoons were still warm that autumn, and while walking through the gardens one afternoon, to clear his thoughts, Richard ended up in the yew garden. He glanced around, it had not changed much at all since he and Anne had met out here all those years ago. Perhaps, bringing her back to the beginning of their relationship would work. Perhaps, it could be a start. 

He made plans for the next afternoon, the business of state could hopefully wait for one afternoon and evening while he tried to reconnect with his wife. He sent a request to the kitchen for a picnic basket to be packed, he requested all of her favorite foods. Late that morning, he sent a note to her rooms which, simply read, "Meet me in the gardens." 

When he arrived at the garden, the blanket was spread, the picnic packed for them. All he had to do was wait for Anne. It was not that long until he heard her footsteps on the path, and he looked up as she came around the corner. He immediately stood. "My lady." He bowed to her. 

Anne stared at him in absolute shock. What in the world was he up to? She'd honestly expected him to suggest she retire to a convent after the battle, which she honestly had not wanted to do. She was not giving up her throne for the Rivers girl, and she'd been more than shocked when the Rivers girl had left court. She'd been watching from her window as the girl had left, and had felt no small pleasure at the stricken look on the girl's face as she left. She wasn't proud of those thoughts, and had confessed them a few weeks later. 

"What is all of this?" She finally asked. 

"The weather is still warm enough for a picnic, so I thought we could have one." 

She nodded. During the warm months, at Middleham, they'd often ridden out together for a picnic, amongst other things. She couldn't think about that though, for thoughts of Middleham only led to thoughts of their Edward. "You do not have state business to attend?" She asked. 

"Nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow." He held his hand out to her. 

Anne stared at his hand for a moment, it had been months since they'd really touched. He'd not even come for her blessing before going off to face Tudor. Hesitantly, she slipped her hand in his. She discovered his grip was strong, warm, just as it had always been. He led her over to the blanket, and waited for her to straighten her skirts before he sat. She watched him for a moment. "What are you up to, Richard?"

He looked up, he'd been slicing the bread with his dagger, before answering he picked up the knife to spread butter on the bread and then handed it to her. "Hopefully, we are reconnecting." 

She took a bit of the bread and then looked up at him. "Hopefully?" She said softly. 

He looked up at her, his gaze not wavering from hers. "I do not deny I have hurt you deeply. All I can do is hope that you have it in your heart to forgive me."

She nodded, and was quiet for a moment, as he cut the cheese and then handed a piece to her. "I need you to answer something for me, Richard." She said softly. "And I need the truth, even if it's not what I want to hear." 

"What?" He asked, certain he already knew what she was going to ask. 

"Did you bed her?" She said softly. 

He reached over and took her hand in his, relieved she did not try to pull away. "Look at me, Anne." He said softly. 

She looked up, meeting his gaze, which was soft. For the first time in what seemed months, she could feel love in his eyes. 

"I did not." He said softly. "I played every card I had to defeat Tudor. I made the world believe she was my whore. And there is no doubt in my mind my eternal soul will pay for that. But I did not bed her."

She nodded, knowing beyond any doubt of her mind he was not lying. "Thank you for being honest." 

"Anne..." He closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "If I could take back the hurt, I would."

This time, she was the one who reached for his hand. "I know that." She nodded. 

He opened his eyes, and then looked down at their joined hands. "Do you know how much I need you?"

She looked up at him. "Once, yes, I thought I did, but lately I've not been as sure." 

He shifted on the blanket, moving closer to her, wanting more than anything to take her into his arms. "You are my other half." He said softly. "Without you, I am not whole." 

She closed her eyes. "Taking the crown, it has changed us." She said very softly. "Both of us. We're not the two young people who met out here, and planned to runaway." 

"No." He said softly. "We're not. But what we are is the two adults, who have been married for 14 years, have spent countless nights wrapped in each other's arms, have been each other's truest confidant and friend. We're the parents who have suffered miscarriage after miscarriage, and raised and buried our only son." He said very softly, holding both of her hands. 

She closed her eyes. "When Edward died, I said things to you in my grief." 

"I know that, and we do not need to talk about them." He mumured. 

"Yes, we do." She said softly. "We also need to talk about the hurt I've caused you. I know you did not order the deaths of your nephews." She said very softly. "You would never do something like that." 

"I know that was your grief." He said softly. "You do not need to explain it to me."

"We tore us apart with the grief." She replied. 

"Yes, we did." He said softly. "But I believe, I have to believe we can be put back together." He said earnestly. 

She looked up. "Why do you have to believe it?" She asked softly. 

He held his hand out, the one which had his coronation ring. "Because without you, without us, this is all hollow." 

"You need a wife who is not barren." She said softly. 

"No." He shook his head. "I need you." 

She closed her eyes. "I've not wanted to admit how much I need you." She said softly. 

At that moment, he didn't care if she tried to push him away, he moved closer and took her into his arms. Anne offered no resistance at all, she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder. "When we are together, we are strong, remember?" He said softly. 

"Yes." She murmured. 

"You cannot tell me you've felt strong lately, I know I have not." He said softly. 

"No." She shook her head. 

"I cannot do this without you, cannot be the King that England deserves and needs without you, Anne." He mumured into her ear. 

"But...." She said softly. 

"The only duties I need my wife to perform are to love and support me, if she happens to give me children along the way, that's an added bonus." He softly repeated words he'd said to her years ago at Middleham, after her first miscarriage. 

She looked up at him. "And you are still the man who once said to me that as long as he had his own honor and me, he was happy." She said very softly. 

"I would say my honor is tarnished, but yes I am." He said softly. 

She took a deep breath, leaning in and lightly kissing him. He closed his eyes, pulling her close against him. Oh, but he'd missed having her in his arms. Gently, he pushed her back onto the blanket, covering her body with his own. 

"Richard." She murmured, realizing exactly how much she'd missed being in his arms. 

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Do you want to go inside?" He asked softly. 

"To our chambers and to our bed, yes." She nodded. 

He stood, holding his hand out to her. "I am not letting go again." He softly promised, as they walked together back into the palace.


End file.
